


Bitten

by mamey2422



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21535636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamey2422/pseuds/mamey2422
Summary: AU. Rio becomes a vampire…does he turn Beth? Takes place early general S2 timeframe. Completely out of my comfort zone. I hope I do vampire Brio justice.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 20
Kudos: 83





	Bitten

Rio groaned. He tried to move but every bone, muscle and cell in his body ached, felt as if it had been pulled, twisted, bent, broken. He blinked, attempting to clear out the blurriness, slowly placing himself in a dark alley behind the bar he’d been at the night before. It wasn’t his usual spot, too new and too trendy for his taste. He needed a password to enter which was the first sign he didn’t belong. But the new potential partner he was meeting suggested it, insisted, so Rio accommodated.

As his eyes adjusted he saw it was still dark, sunrise only starting to creep over the quiet streets. Every small bump of the gravel he lay on felt like nails on his skin. His phone pressed into him from his back pocket, along with his wallet. He grabbed his wrist, his Rolex still there too. He hadn’t been mugged. 

Rio struggled to remember what happened, how he ended up like this. His meeting went well, ended on a handshake. He sipped one drink the whole night, never one to get sloppy or over indulge at work. But maybe his drink had been stronger than he realized. Or were those young thugs vying for a cut of his business trying to make a statement?

Rio slowly sat up, inventorying his body for injuries. Despite the pain, he could move everything, nothing appeared broken. He touched his face. No swelling, but his mouth felt dry and cottony, and his teeth felt funny, as if out of place. He touched his lips gingerly. Nothing was missing, no blood.

Unable to make sense of anything, Rio dragged himself up, ignored the throbbing ache. He found his car parked on the street where he left it. It took all his energy and focus, but he drove himself home. His last waking thought before falling onto his bed and into a deep sleep was _‘What the fuck_.’

* * *

Rio didn’t wake up until he heard his name from a voice miles away. It was soothing, kept asking him to wake up. A hand caressed his cheek, soft and light. He nudged into the comfort it offered. A warm wet cloth magically placed on his forehead, cooling his skin.

Disoriented, he struggled to open his eyes, seeing a blur of familiar pink lips, blonde hair and worried blue eyes. He tried talking, but his tongue felt unfamiliar in his mouth, that weird, itchy sensation around his teeth again. He smiled at Beth before falling back asleep.

* * *

The next time Rio woke up, he sat up instantly, startled from a nightmare, clawing at his neck, gasping for air.

Images flashed in his mind. Walking to his car after that meeting, a loud metallic crash. Distracted, turning to identify the source of the noise, a dark shape swooped over him. Then he was airless, his arms held forcibly at his sides, his gun out of reach, his feet struggling for traction. He tried to fight but they were too fast, too evasive, too shadowy. Until suddenly he felt something pierce his neck, the most intense pain he’d ever experienced. Rio yelled in shock and agony. Whatever weapon they used, a knife, a needle, worked fast because he instantly weakened before slipping into unconsciousness.

Rio dragged his hand over his face, shook his head as if to clear the fog. He lugged himself to the bathroom and splashed water on his face, giving himself a mental pep talk. He might not be sure what happened to him but he knew this wasn’t the first time he drank too much or got jumped. Maybe he’d been drugged. He just had to shake it off. He almost convinced himself he was fine until he looked in the mirror. What he saw made him take a step back.

His skin was pale, to be expected, but it looked tight as if stretched too taught over his body. He took a step closer to the mirror. Were his eyes…different? Yellow mixed into the usual deep brown of his irises. The black rings around them suddenly a thick vantablack. His teeth bothered him again, but before he could examine them he noticed his hands, more specifically his suddenly long fingernails. For someone as meticulous as he about grooming, he surprised himself at his lack of diligence with his nail trim.

Hoping a shower would give him the jolt he desperately needed, Rio stripped naked and let the water pound his skin until it turned cold. That somehow felt better than the hot water so he stayed even longer. When he stepped out, clean with fresh clothes, he found Beth waiting for him, sitting on a kitchen stool. He hadn’t imagined her after all.

“You’re awake,” she said, as if that outcome had been in question.

“Dags called me when he couldn’t get in touch with you,” Beth offered in explanation, almost apologetically. “He helped me get in. You should really lock your windows, you know.”

Beth nodded toward the open window by the fire escape.

“I…we were worried about you.” She looked thoughtful and more concerned than her words let on.

Rio couldn’t respond, distracted by an overwhelming restlessness. And he’s thirstier than he’s ever been in his entire life. His eyes laser focus on Beth’s pulse point. He saw the up and down rhythm from under her skin, heard the rush of blood, felt invisible waves coming off her body and crashing into his own. Sensations of comfort and attraction washed over him.

His body started reacting to her. It wasn’t the first time this happened, arousal a common experience for him around Beth. But the desire that shot through him was so sudden and strong that he felt it in his veins, his fingertips, his teeth.

Exhaustion hit again, his eyes drooping with the weight of confusion, of whatever was going on with his body. Answers could wait. He mumbled something to Beth about being fine, to let herself out, crawled back into bed and into another deep sleep.

* * *

Rio had no sense of time or space when he woke up next. Minutes or hours or days could have passed. What he did know was Beth was laying next to him. He remembered feeling the dip of his mattress, the body heat that accompanied it. Through the darkness, Rio saw her looking at him. Felt it. He tracked every move she made, each twitch of muscle, each shift of her eyes, every inhale and exhale of breath, the uptick in the tempo in her heartbeat.

He could tell she was aroused. He was too. He wanted her. Under him, on top of him. Every way possible.

His knees straightened, creating more space for her next to him. He thread his fingers through her hair, traced them along her spine, rested them at the small of her back, applying just enough pressure to tilt her hips towards his, to fit him in the notch of her thighs. Beth welcomed his hardness, her legs opened with an unmistakable invitation and Rio took it.

He covered her lips, kissed her long and deep, like it was the last thing he would ever do. Beth returned the kiss, just as eager. They were both breathless when they broke apart. His hands slid under her shirt, his fingers vibrating with need. He palmed her breast, full and soft, drawing his thumb across the tip. She responded with small gasps, restless hips. When they were stripped naked, his roughness contrasting her softness, everything became feverish and frantic, their hands trying to be everywhere at once. There was a hunger between them, a desperate need to be as close together as possible. Beth arched into his hand when he slid it between her legs, pressing, circling, stroking. Making her hotter and wetter.

Unable to wait any longer, Rio slid inside her, all at once, all the way. He started moving powerfully, possessively, their bodies quickly syncing. When Rio felt her react to him, clenching and grinding and moaning, his mind was lost, he was nothing but primal instinct and his body knew exactly what it wanted. He tore his mouth from hers and started kissing her neck, drawn to the soft juncture of her pulse point. His kisses turned into licks then into nibbles. When his teeth scraped her flesh something snapped inside him and he bit her, his fangs - he instinctively knew what they were and how to use them - slid through her skin smoothly, precisely.

Beth screamed at the pain, at the hard orgasm triggered by it, clutching his head, unsure to push him away or hold him closer. Rio’s body came alive as her blood flooded his mouth. He could taste Beth’s orgasm, a sweet, rich wine on his tongue. Everything around him was suddenly loud and bright. Her heartbeat thundered in his ears, mixed with his own. Her breath became his breath. He could smell everything at once, the smell of life. He cradled her neck as he sucked, indulging in the intense lust until his own release came, fast and fierce.

When his thirst was gone, going off reflexes he didn’t understand, he licked the bite marks until they heal closed. Shaking, he rolled onto his back, Beth limp next to him. The stillness that followed was just as startling as everything that just preceded it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Rio whispered into the darkness before slipping into sleep. 

* * *

Beth woke up slowly, her body ached, the good kind of twinges that came from sex, good sex. Beth smiled at the memories of Rio touching her, being inside her. She had imagined what it would be like to be with him so many times, but this was a rare instance of reality exceeding fantasy.

Her hand jumped to her neck, remembering Rio biting her. She was not surprised he liked it a little rough, but even that was unexpected. She felt no mark, her skin a little tender but smooth. Maybe she exaggerated the moment in her mind because intimacy like that was so new to her. She and Dean had barely touched each other in a year, so she was going from zero to sixty. And she’d never been with someone like Rio, someone with darkness and danger to them.

Beth rolled over, found the other side of the bed empty except for a note.

_“Needed to take care of some work. Thank you for checking on me. Call you later. – R.”_

Rio was a man of his word so she didn’t interpret his note as a blow off. Not that she’d ever been in this situation before. But insecurity swelled as the reality of sleeping with Rio hit her. Would things change between them now? Would he treat her differently? Look at her differently? The want and need between last night was a two-way street, just as strong from him as her. They were in this confusing mess together.

She luxuriated in his bed for a moment longer, not surprised to find that he liked 1,000 thread count sheets. 

* * *

Rio bit Beth. He fucking bit her. Hard. _What the fuck_. _What the fuck_. _What the fuck_.

Rio knew the difference between an innocent love bite and the bloodlust he’d experienced with Beth. He never lost control like that before. He just needed a little time, to stop feeling like he was walking through quicksand, like he was having an out of body experience.

He walked to the club where he was attacked. Someone there must have answers, saw something. But it was morning so no one was around. He pounded on the heavy wooden cathedral door at the front of the club. No one answered, but Rio noticed something as he banged. Etched into the wood, blended seamlessly into the grain was a word. _Nosferatu_. Under it was a small ankh, the sharp edges of the shape carved so lightly it was barely perceptible to touch or sight. Rio traced them as if making sure they were real. Both were familiar but he couldn’t place his knowledge of them. He pulled out his phone. A few Google searches later he was running down the street to the Detroit Public Library.

* * *

Rio rarely panicked. Control and planning were critical to his job, his lifestyle, to staying one step ahead. But there was no doubt that he was reeling, spinning out.

He’d spent hours at the library, desperate to connect the dots swimming in his head. His initial search led him to fiction, to titles from Anne Rice and Bram Stroker. He initially brushed off the kind librarian offering help. But hours later when he was still there, surrounded by a growing pile of books, he let her show him the folklore and mythology sections with large thick novels on the shelves. And it was there that he found the answer he so desperately sought.

He was a fucking vampire.

The conclusion, as ridiculous as it seemed, settled in his mind. A calm quiet voice from somewhere deep inside him reassured him. The words on the book pages matched his reality. He locked himself in the library bathroom, finally saw his two sharp canine teeth. Using his pocket knife he cut his arm, deep, testing the theory that vampire flesh was dead and wouldn’t feel pain. He had no reaction. The cut immediately closed, unnatural healing another trait listed in the books. The crucifix thing was a myth. He tested it when he got home, pulling out the one his grandmother had given him at his first communion from his closet. He closed his fingers around it tightly, but nothing happened.

An odd peace settled over him as he accepted the facts and evidence in front of him. With knowledge came power and now at least Rio could act.

* * *

Rio never believed in vampires but his concept of them came from movies and TV. Living in the shadows, in dark hidden places, sleeping in coffins. But that wasn’t the case for him. He lived his life as normally as possible, no one ever realizing they were walking and talking next to a vampire.

Rio learned quickly, often the hard way, how to adjust to his new body, his new life. Like how the sun was a brutal thing. Sunglasses, rimmed hats and popped collars a sudden staple in his wardrobe. Given his line of work, no one questioned his insistence on evening meetings, the moon a welcome sight each night.

One change actually worked in his favor – his newfound super strength. Thinking the young thugs from the rival gang were the culprits for whatever happened to him, he tracked them down. When one of them pulled a knife, he saw it in slow motion even though they were moving fast. He grabbed their wrist, intending to yank them to the ground, but the guy flew over his head, sailed across the air, crashed into the wall.

He couldn’t eat regular food anymore. When he tried to eat for the first time after the incident, some simple chicken soup, he wolfed it down, starving. Then ran to the bathroom to throw it all up. No more steaks, prime rib, rice and beans, spaghetti. It all tasted like nothing and it did nothing to fuel him. He had a hard time explaining why he was turning down his favorite eggs and hash browns, but learned to order lightly, nibble at the edges and move his food around enough to give the appearance of eating. _Too busy to eat_ , he’d say.

Food was a major issue though, more specifically his hunger. He craved blood. But he didn’t know where to go or who to turn to get it. Were there other vampires walking around that he could get some pointers from? There was at least one, the one who did this to him. Desperate, he put a feeler out to a connection, made a vague inquiry into donated blood. They gave him a funny look, used to dealing with cars and pills and paper, but wrote down a name and number when Rio handed him a fat stack. Money was life’s ultimate wheel greaser.

He asked Marcus’ mom to take him for a couple weeks, using work as an excuse. Consistency and reliability were always his priority as a father. But until he had this deep dark secret under control he wanted Marcus somewhere else.

As for Beth, he hadn’t seen her since their night together a week ago. As much as he wanted to put it out of his mind, ignore what happened, what he’d done, he couldn’t. The way her body reacted to his had been so natural and giving and hot. Had he not been distracted by the whole vampire thing he would have reveled in it, teased her, done it again and again. They had a scheduled meeting tonight, and it was time to face her.

* * *

Rio asked to meet at his apartment, an unusual departure from the parks and cafes of their standard meet ups. But Rio needed to be in control of as much of his environment as possible. His home was safe territory.

Beth looked at him shyly when he let her in, tentatively handing him the duffel bag of washed money. Something was wrong. Call it women’s intuition or sixth sense, but she could feel it. He hadn’t been ignoring her, responding to her texts and calls like normal, but he wasn’t exactly acting like himself either. There was a different tilt to his voice, a subtext to his words that she couldn’t quite place. 

“It’s all there,” Beth nodded to the bag, trying to keep her tone airy.

“Have a seat,” Rio said, gesturing to his couch, deviating from his usual routine of immediately counting the money.

“What?” He had never extended such a casual pleasantry to her before. Something was definitely wrong.

“I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Beth’s voice raised an octave, her radar pinging relentlessly with worry.

Rio debated what to tell Beth, how much to unload on her, if anything. But he trusted her. She was the strongest person he knew, even though she didn’t see herself that way. And it was never a good idea to keep her in the dark. That’s when she lashed out, retaliated. And, right now, he needed her in his corner, on his side. He liked to believe she would be, wanted to believe it. That this thing between them would withstand this unusual test. 

His life was already far from normal, required huge sacrifice, from him, from the people around him. And now there was a whole new complicated layer on top of it all. Would Beth be willing to stay? To keep this secret for him? Isn’t that what Beth wanted though. Excitement and thrill and power?

Before he changed his mind, before Beth retreated, Rio pulled her into a kiss, fast and hard. When the arousal from it reached his toes then back up to his teeth, when he felt his fangs, he pulled back but didn’t cover his mouth. He let Beth see their length and sharpness. He watched as shock and horror twisted over her face when he retracted them back to normal. He was learning he could control them, most of the time.

Beth laughed, giggled really, an autonomic response to confusion and fear. But Rio wasn’t laughing. Instead he started talking, his voice thoughtful and serious as he told an enrapturing story beginning with the night at the club and ending with them together now.

Beth closed her eyes, shook her head, desperately tried to understand what she heard and saw. The human brain always went for the most rational explanation first. Occam’s razor dictated that the most likely explanation was the correct one. So Beth’s mind spun for logic. A virus, drugs, a hallucination, a psychosis, a prank. Maybe she was being recorded like in those YouTube videos Kenny watched. Rio’s teeth were fake, some illusion to get laughs at her expense. But a vampire? No. No way.

“Is this…are you…serious right now?” Irritation dripped in her voice. She had enough shit to deal with from men, Dean at the top of the list. She didn’t need anymore, not from Rio.

“Listen,” she faced Rio head on, pointing a finger at him. “If you regret the other night and this is your way of trying to get rid of me, you don’t need to be so god damn immature about it. Go to hell.”

Rio grabbed Beth’s wrist before she could storm off.

“Elizabeth,” Rio took a deep breath. He focused on simple words, pure truth. “I’m not lying. I swear. On Marcus.”

His tone, the use of her full name, Marcus’ name, broke through the haze in her mind. Her heart stopped, her breath caught as she looked at him, his eyes shimmering with a soft glow. Aside from his teeth, it was the strangest thing she'd ever seen.

She believed Rio. She fully believed.

“You bit me. Am I…” Beth couldn’t finish the sentence, the thought too outrageous to put into words.

“No.” His response was immediate, defensive.

“How...”

“We’d need to exchange blood.”

“But didn’t you…we…?”

“No. I can feed without turning someone.” Rio was reading her mind, one step ahead of her in the conversation, mind-reading another vampire power. But he’s patient, understood the absurd comprehension required. It was still new to him too but Rio was used to flipping his game, shedding one skin for another to fit his circumstances. Father, gang leader, money launderer, pill pusher. He could add vampire to the list.

One thing that gave Rio comfort was that he didn’t require a lot of blood. At least that’s what the books said, what he experienced so far. There was a difference between feeding for want versus feeding for need. Vampires didn’t have to suck a person dry, drain them of their life. To survive he just needed a cup.

“Then how did the…how did you…”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember. It’s called vampire gaze. They wipe your memory.”

“I…I have to go.” The ripple effects of his words compounded, sent her backward, away from him, back to where everything made sense. She simultaneously wanted to hold him close, understand what was happening to him, encourage him to tell her everything. She had a million more questions but not enough resolve to ask them.

Beth fumbled with the doorknob, not realizing her hands had been shaking, her knees knocking. Rio let her go.

* * *

The knock on Rio’s door late the next night was unexpected. He palmed his gun at his waist. Nothing good happened after 1:00 am his mother would always say. He’d come to learn that was often true. And he was weak, in desperate need for blood, in no condition for a fight of any kind.

When he saw Beth on the door cam he let her in, braced for a different kind of confrontation. He gave her space, didn’t call or text or drop by. His heart skipped a beat that she was at his door. Standing in front of him. Knowing what he was. Was that her answer?

Beth walked in silently. Rio couldn’t read the expression in her eyes, but his skin prickled from the intensity of her stare, knocking something loose in his chest.

Wordlessly, gently, Beth cupped his face with both hands, caressed his cheeks before tracing the line of his eyebrows, down his jaw, over his lips. She forced them open, thumbed one of his fangs. She seemed to be assessing him, studying him. Rio let her.

Tension eased in Beth as her fingers slid over the sharp, handsome features she’d become so familiar with. There was something inevitable about it all, Beth thought, as she absorbed the juxtaposition of his textures – rough stubble, smooth lips, cold skin, sharp teeth. Their connection from the moment they met was hot and wild and raw. And just between them. She craved more, whatever it was, with him. He set her on a path she never knew she needed. She wanted everything he offered. That hadn’t changed with his revelation of being a vampire. Closing her eyes, she felt how much she loved him.

Beth felt like she was jumping off a cliff, but she’d been doing that ever since meeting Rio. In silent offering, Beth pulled up her sleeve and extended her bare wrist to him.

“What are you doing?”

“Now, Rio. Do it.” Beth lifted her arm closer in insistence. Her voice was soft but firm. “Bite me. Again.”

“No, Elizabeth. Stop.” The full impact of her gesture hit him in the gut, left him breathless, the words barely a whisper.

When he still refused, pushing her arm away, Beth dug her nails deep and hard into her own flesh, enough for a tiny crimson drop to well. The moment the scent of her blood hit the air, Rio surged toward her, unable to look away from the red bead, begging him to taste it.

With a growl, he yanked her hand toward him and bit her skin where she had already marked. His eyes rolled back into his head as he sucked, pulled her blood down this throat. He took long draws, his body reawakening from the strength Beth gave him. The muscles in his neck strained as he fed, his expression one of pain as if he hurt from needing Beth this way.

But her eyes were steady on him, no hint of fear, gripping his shoulder for support. She did not cry, have any interest in stopping him. She wanted to do this for him, with him. Even though he was the one with his fangs deep into her skin, her life in his hands, she never felt more powerful. Rio made her feel like he always did. Like she mattered. Like he would always keep her safe.

Beth’s blood spread power through Rio’s veins. And with the power came an undeniable need to get inside Beth. His hips started rolling, he had an urge to touch himself, touch her.

Recognizing what Rio wanted, the same desire coursing through her, Beth fumbled with his pants with one hand, tugging until she could pull him out, already hard and long. She only had to pump a few times before he came. 

He released the seal of his mouth, drunk on her taste, licking his red-stained lips. They stared at each other for a long moment before Rio pulled up his pants, wrapped his arms around her. Beth could feel his heartbeat as she rested her head on his chest. It sounded like a regular heartbeat, a human heartbeat. How strange that he was something else entirely.

Regardless of what they had been before this – co-workers, partners, lovers – and what Beth was willing to accept of him, things were different now. Beth clutched him tighter, unable to hold back tears. There was no rule book for this. Neither of them wanted one. As they had from the moment Beth called him an idiot with a gun pointed to her head, they would figure it out in their own way as they went – the new borders and boundaries, if there even were any.


End file.
